Close Your Eyes
by BaronessBlixen
Summary: Daphne is left with a sick Niles.


**TITEL**: Close Your Eyes

**PAIRING**: Daphne/Niles

**DISCLAIMER**: I own nothing at all.

**TIMELINE/SPOILERS**: No specific time, but after 3x13 "Moon Dance". Niles is still married.

**NOTES**: This is my very first Frasier FF. I needed you to know that. Feedback of any kind is very welcome. This is part of a mini-series (3 to 4 parts), but I'll only continue if someone wants me to. It works as a standalone as well.

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Daphne entered the kitchen, followed by an excited Eddie, carrying two bags of groceries. Only when she put them down did she see _it_: the butt sticking out from the fridge. Then she took in the accompanying. Daphne quickly realized it was the younger Dr. Crane. Unsure whether she should be concerned or amused, she lightly touched his back. She had to lean forward somewhat; his butt was closer, but it seemed inappropriate. Very much so.

"Dr. Crane?" His head came out of the fridge. Daphne immediately went into concerned mode when she saw his face. His eyes were glassy, his complexion pale and despite the cold he'd just been exposed to, he looked hot. As in too warm, she reminded herself.

"What were you doing there with your head in the fridge?" she asked, ushering him out of the kitchen and into the living room. Eddie was still following them. He wanted to be fed, Daphne knew, but Dr. Crane needed her more at the moment.

"It was too hot." He mumbled. His voice sounded deeper than usual; also, it seemed to crack at the end. A definite sign of a cold. His back was clammy even through his clothes. As he slumped onto the couch Daphne touched his forehead. He was burning up.

"Dr. Crane you are burning up! Why aren't you home?" Daphne tried to get the man out of his jacket. He didn't make it easy though. Still, she could feel his eyes on her. They were burning into her. As hotly as he felt underneath her fingers. She had to concentrate. Not let his gaze get to her.

"Oh Maris left me. Or did she just leave the house? I don't remember... leaving was involved. I wanted to consult Frasier, but he wasn't here and my head just felt so hot."

"Your wife left you alone in this state? What about all your servants?"

"Ah, I recall the event now: Maris threw me out. I fainted on our young maid and she thought I was having an affair with her." Dr. Crane nodded to himself. Finally, Daphne was able to take his jacket off of him. The story angered her. Of course Mrs. Crane would believe such a thing. She didn't trust Dr. Crane very well and Daphne couldn't understand why. He was such a sweet, honest guy after all.

"Your brother and father are out on a double date."

"But he didn't tell me!" Dr. Crane complained.

"It was short notice. Your father needed a buffer for his date, as I understood it." Daphne told him fleetingly.

"I should go home again." Dr. Crane said, looking at her. With the expression of a deer. A deer caught in headlights. And something more. There was the slightest hint of fear that was washed away when he sneezed badly, causing his eyes to tear up. Daphne had never seen his eyes so blue. Beautiful. She shook her head as if to shake off any thoughts of beauty and put her mind back to what was important: getting Dr. Crane into bed. She had to giggle.

"What's so funny?" Dr. Crane asked his voice sounding nasal. Snobbish. Daphne figured it almost fit him. But just almost.

"Oh nothing. Come on, you need to get some rest." She tugged at his arms. But he didn't budge.

"I need to go home." He repeated. Trying to look at the door, only his neck wouldn't go so far anymore.

"You need to get some rest, Dr. Crane. I'm sure Mrs. Crane will understand."

"She doesn't even care. Not like... she doesn't care." He huffed, finally standing on his own feet. Albeit a bit wobbly. Daphne put her arms around him to lead him into his brother's bedroom.

"I'm sure that's not true." Actually, Daphne believed it to be very much true. Mrs. Crane was a weird, scary little woman. Even more so than Lilith. How those two Crane men had ended up with women like them was beyond her.

"You care though." Dr. Crane was leaning heavily against her. She felt his head close to hers. It was buried in her hair. She decided it was only because he was feverish. Then he sniffed her hair. Very obviously. If it weren't for the soft humming noises, she would have even discarded the sniffing. Just like she always did. Unfortunately, it felt good. Too good. Daphne wasn't allowed to enjoy this. She had never allowed herself to wallow in his subtle, or not so subtle, displays of affections. Because she couldn't. It wasn't right. She might only be a gal from Manchester, but she could tell right from wrong.

"Of course I care, Dr. Crane. You're my boss's brother." Daphne hoped it would remind Dr. Crane. Remind him of his wife. Of what their relationship was supposed to be like. Friendly, but not romantic.

"Hmmm." Obviously, her plan didn't work. But they were already in Dr. Crane's room. Daphne gently pushed him on the bed. He just lay there like dead meat with his eyes closed, breathing quickly. A small smile played upon his lips. Daphne suddenly, almost in panic, realized she would have to undress him. She stared at him for a moment, trying to see him as someone else. Just some random person. She'd undressed many men and women. No big deal. So she started with his shoes. That was easy enough. Before she went on, she checked the closet for something Dr. Crane could wear.

"Daphne?" She turned around to see him sit upright. His hair was a mess upon his reddish head. He looked cute even though he was sick.

"Yes, Dr. Crane?"

"I think I can do that myself." Daphne blushed. Of course he could. She handed him the sweatpants she hoped wouldn't be too big. Then she turned around.

"If you need any help..." She didn't finish the sentence.

"Thank you, Daphne." She listened to the rustling of his clothes. Trying to think of something else. He was breathing heavily, indicating that he was definitely sick. It triggered something in Daphne.

"I will make you some tea while you get ready for bed. And we need to take your temperature." If she concentrated on the necessity side of this incident, she would be fine. As she left the room, she took a deep breath. Usually, Daphne didn't allow herself to think of Dr. Crane. Other than him being her boss's brother, or the sweet, sweet guy that hung around the apartment – and her life. If she let herself feel it, recognize him, she was sure it would lead to disaster. So she discarded these dangerous thoughts, as she always did and gathered everything she needed to help Dr. Crane.

Ten minutes later, Daphne returned. She felt enough time had passed for him to change into the sweatpants. Carrying her tray with all the necessary utensils on it, her arrival announced itself by a gentle click-clack. Somehow she had not expected the picture that greeted her: Dr. Crane was a little ball of blanket in the middle of the bed, sleeping. Silently, Daphne put the tray down. Had Eddie not chosen this exact moment to jump onto the bed and, not seeing Dr. Crane there, onto him, too, everything would have been perfect.

"Whaaa!" Dr. Crane startled. He looked even worse than ten minutes before.

"Eddie, you little rascal, get out of here!" Daphne screamed while Dr. Crane groaned; she should refrain from screaming, she realized.

"You made tea?" Oh, Dr. Crane, she thought. He was much more pleasant than his brother when sick. Daphne still remembered... how she almost wanted to kill him.

"First we need to take your temperature." He nodded and obediently let the thermometer into his mouth. While it did its work, Dr. Crane watched Daphne. Intensely. Most of the time, she felt flattered by his attention. It wasn't that she didn't notice it. She just tried not to let him notice her noticing him. He made her feel like a schoolgirl that way; never letting the boy you like know you like him. The thought, so evasively entering her mind, startled her. She almost ripped the peeping thermometer out of Dr. Crane's mouth.

"Like I suspected you are running a fever, Dr. Crane." Automatically, she adjusted the comforter around him. She didn't want him to be cold.

"Why do you never call me Niles?" The question came out of the blue and hit Daphne right in the face. She stared at him, speechless for the moment.

"You can call me Niles, you know. You're not working for me." His voice was so gentle, so soft, and always so considerate. Daphne loved his voice. Another thought she wasn't supposed to have.

"It's not professional, Dr. Crane. Now, you need to sleep. You want to be at your best when you go back home, don't you?" She hated mentioning his home, now, indicating his wife. How Daphne wished there wasn't a Mrs. Crane to consider. Then maybe, just maybe. No, she chided herself mentally, not even then.

"You're right." There was the slightest hint of surrender in his voice. His eyes stayed on her until he closed them. Daphne gazed at him, listened to how his breathing changed. Listened until he was finally asleep. As she put away the thermometer, she realized how she had not even given him the tea. He had distracted her and so she had forgotten it. Daphne hoped he would be better soon – even without her special tea. She switched off the big light and only left a small one on so that there was a faint light. Dr. Crane looked illuminated by it. His hair suddenly golden. His face peaceful in slumber, just like a child's would be. She sighed and left the room.

Back in her own room, Daphne tried to read a book. But she couldn't concentrate. Her ears and thoughts were with Dr. Crane. And she was wondering when the other Dr. Crane and his father would return. She dreaded and longed for their return. She couldn't stay in her room. She justified her behavior by imagining horror stories in which Dr. Crane chocked. Or where his fever burned him. Someone had to be with him. With her book tugged under arm, she went back. Just seeing Dr. Crane there beneath the sheets, sleeping, warmed her heart.

Watching him made her feel guilty. At least a little bit. He watched her all the time after all. Not just watched, but stared. Sometimes Daphne wondered what would happen if she told him about it. Would he stop? Out of fear that he would, she had never mentioned it. Pretended not to notice and just play dumb. All the while falling, falling for him. How could she not? The way he complimented her. How he noticed every little change about her. The way he always smelled her hair. That was her favorite. Because no man had ever paid her so much attention. But Daphne knew who she was – and who he was. She was not his league. Her mother had taught her these things. But she could watch him, too. A moment like this could belong to her. One she could store away for those days when another man rejected her. Or didn't like her enough. Tonight she would reverse their roles, just as long as she was allowed to.

Carefully, Daphne put the chair right next to the bed. She sat down and leaned forward. Closer to Niles. Just for this night, she allowed herself to think of him as Niles. She knew how the name rolled of her tongue. Remembered the feeling of it. She mouthed it to him mutely. It gave her a tingling feeling. Feeling brave, she leaned even closer. Just a tiny bit. She was close to his face now. It reminded her of that one day. That one beautiful day they went dancing. Daphne cherished the memory dearly. The only night she had allowed herself to give in to him. Then she had retreated, breaking both their hearts. But she didn't like to think about the end, she only thought about the dance. The kiss. Everything before it had ended.

Now, she just watched him. Her fingers tingled, wanting to touch what her eyes saw there. His hair. Could she... could she just reach out and touch it? 'Don't wake up, Niles', she thought hard and touched his hair. Her fingertip brushed his forehead ever so gently. He was still too warm. Luckily, he didn't wake up. So Daphne resumed her position. Watched the rise and fall of his chest. The hint of heavy breathing caused by his cold. She wondered what he might be dreaming about. Maybe he was dreaming about her. Or his wife.

She couldn't tell if she was watching him for hours, or just minutes. All she knew was when the front door slammed, it was over. Dr. Crane – he was him again, he had to be – didn't even stir. Quickly, she was on her feet and on her way to the living room.

"She had spinach between her teeth, dad! I had to say something!" Daphne burst into the room, obviously interrupting an argument. She didn't care. Both Crane men looked angry, then confused when they saw her emerging.

"Would you both be quiet! Dr. Crane is sick. He's sleeping in your bed Dr. Crane."

"Niles, sick?" To his credit, Dr. Crane's voice softened immediately. The anger disappeared from his face and was replaced with worry.

"It's just a cold, I think. He is running a fever though. I couldn't let him leave like that."

"Poor Niles." Mr. Crane mumbled and sat down in his chair. Eddie jumped onto his lap.

"Thank you, Daphne. I'm sure you took good care of him."

"I hope I did, Dr. Crane." Daphne answered, hoping her blush wasn't too obvious.

"Goodnight Dr. Crane, Mr. Crane." She added quickly and went to her room, not turning around again.

"Did you think her behavior was kind of strange?" She heard Dr. Crane ask his father.

"You always think people act strange. And then you go and insult women!"

"Dad, I told you I-" Daphne closed her door before he finished the sentence. She leaned against it thinking about Dr. Crane. About Niles. Hoping he would be better again in the morning. And that her dreams were filled with his sleeping complexion.

END


End file.
